


Shattered Sight

by AreYouSittingComfortably



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: Attraction, Consensual Violence, Cursed Storybrooke, F/M, Fight Sex, Hate Sex, Love/Hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreYouSittingComfortably/pseuds/AreYouSittingComfortably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever wondered what would happen if neither Emma nor Hook escaped the curse of Shattered Sight? What happens when love turns to loathing, fuelled by the desire to hurt each other in any way they can? (Please note the tags before you read - don't say I didn't warn you - but it's not quite as dark as it sounds)!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Just before the curse hits, Emma and Elsa find a way to break the bonds between them and the Snow Queen and regain their magic. Thinking they’re immune, and needing all the help they can get to break the curse, Emma rushes to find Hook, about to chain himself to the railings at the park near the docks, and Elsa returns to the station and her sister. Unfortunately, without the bonds protecting them, not even their magic can save them, and they too succumb to the curse of shattered sight. Anna manages to save the day, but not quickly enough to stop Emma and Hook from hurting each other. But, even cursed, they can’t deny their attraction.

"What the hell?!" Emma broke their kiss, and pushed him away abruptly.

For a moment, Killian looked at her in confusion, fingers brushing his lips, still buzzing from their kiss just moments ago. Then his expression darkened as he realized the damn woman was jerking him around again. Leading him on, then pushing him away as soon as they got close. Enough! He was not going to put up with her shit anymore.

"What's the matter, love, realized you can't handle it?" his voice was low and dangerous as he deliberately took a step forward, invading her personal space.

"Get away from me!" she hissed.

"With pleasure." Hook responded coldly, "I'm done with you."

Emma couldn't help herself, the anger bubbling up out of her. "Yeah, so you said before. Yet here you are, getting in my way again. What's the matter, being knocked out by me twice wasn't enough for you? Hoping for third time lucky?"

Hook barked with laughter, a chilling sound, "I _let_ you win that first time. I didn't need the compass."

"Yeah, right." she retorted, rolling her eyes.

Suddenly he was right there, in her face again. "I. Let. You. Win." He leaned right in to her, his face inches from hers, eyes as cold as they'd been when he'd left her behind in Rumplestiltskin’s cell. Emma's breath caught in her throat as he lifted her curls with his hook, brushing her cheek with the cold metal, a cold sneer on his handsome face. "Do you really think that a naïve young girl who'd barely handled a sword before could take on a centuries old pirate and win on skill alone? I fancied you, I enjoyed fighting with you. It amused me to let you think you'd won. I already had a way to get to Storybrook without you." his voice dropped to a whisper, his hook caressing her face, but not with love.

"The bean." She whispered, remembering his cold words in the cell, the hurt she knew she'd brought upon herself and probably deserved for abandoning him, but still it hurt. What a fool she'd been, to ever be taken in by him, to have believed even for a moment, he was a good man.

"Aye. The bean."

She raised her eyes then and stared challengingly back at him. "The bean. As dried up, dead, and useless as your dark and vengeful heart." she spat, her voice not completely able to disguise the bitterness that welled up inside her.

"You have no idea." he sneered, taking pleasure in the fact that his words still hurt her." She bloody deserved it, the way she’d treated him. “But you no longer amuse me. I'm done with you, Swan." and abruptly he yanked his hook from her curls and started to walk away.

Emma reeled. Who the hell did he think he was to talk about her as an amusement? The man had practically confessed his love for her, and now he was casting her aside like yesterday's news?! Hell no! She felt her anger and magic bubbling up inside her and suddenly she found herself holding a sword. No, a cutlass, _his_ cutlass. The point digging into his shoulder blades.

"Don't you walk away from me!" she yelled, whirling around to face him, the point of his cutlass now at his throat. "You said you enjoyed fighting me, so stand and fight, dammit!"

Hook was done with it, he truly was, but turning to seeing her standing in front of him, her eyes flashing with anger, refusing to back down, he suddenly had the strongest desire to teach her a lesson.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, good form dictating he should ask, but the tone of his voice sounding a clear warning.

"What, the fearsome Captain afraid of a _naïve young girl_?"

"Of course not," he snorted, "but don't say I didn't warn you. I won't go easy on you this time, Swan. We fight until one of us concedes, and if that isn't until after someone bleeds, then so be it. I'll fight fair until you don't, and then anything goes." he smirked, imagining her disarmed and kneeling before him, begging for mercy.

"Fine." Emma growled. She couldn't wait to wipe that stupid smirk off his unfairly handsome face. She tossed him his cutlass, summoning her father's sword into her hand, and they began to circle each other.

"You know, I was wrong to ever think we made a good team, Emma. You're just a lost little girl, unloved, and unloving." he snarled.

"And you're a selfish, dirty pirate, who's wasted his life on avenging a woman because it's easier to hate everyone and blame them for his problems than to learn to live with the loss and move on. Well, I've got news for you, Killian Jones, life _sucks_. Deal with it."

"The way you do? Miss Cut-and-Run anytime you feel anything for anyone? Regardless of who you hurt on the way, even your own mother and son?!"

Furious, Emma thrust wildly at him with her sword, but Hook was ready for her, parrying effortlessly, his years of experience with a sword more than a match for her undisciplined fury. His smile widened into a predatory grin, oh yes, he was going to enjoy finally teaching Swan a lesson.

"Is that the best you've got?" he laughed, delighting in the wild gleam in her eyes as she renewed her attack.

Emma snarled. "You wish. You're so full of yourself, but you can't even get your own women, you have to steal them from someone else. No wonder Gold wants to kill you, first you stole his wife and then the mother of his grandson as well! What's next, trying to steal Henry's first girlfriend?"

"Actually, I was planning to seduce your mother,” he retorted, “when she gets her figure back."

"You're disgusting."

"And yet you fancy me anyway." Hook laughed, side-stepping swiftly as Emma thrust particularly viciously at him. "So what does that say about _you_?"

"Nothing, because I _don't_." she spat.

Hook laughed again, a cocky grin on his face, "Deny it all you like, darling, but you obviously enjoy a bit of rough."

"Excuse me?!"

Hook continued, undeterred, "Your actions speak for themselves, love. You do so love those handcuffs. Any excuse to chain a man to a bed, or a tree, or whatever else is to hand, eh, love? Just so long as you can pretend you're in control."

"I don't need to pretend anything, I _am_ in control."

"Oh, really?" with a casual flick, Hook's sword sliced through the front of her blouse.

Emma gasped, trying to hold her blouse together with her left hand, and Hook ruthlessly followed up his advantage by pressing the tip of his sword into the toe of her boot, not quite enough to pierce the leather, but enough to effectively pin her in place.

"Ready to concede, Princess?"

"Fuck you!"

"Charming. Got quite the filthy mouth haven't you, love? I know gutter rats with better manners. Where'd you pick that up, in prison?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!"

For a moment Hook stared at her as though he was contemplating whether to slap or kiss her, and Emma held her breath, not sure which she'd rather deal with, but then he raised his sword and took a step back. "Actually, no. Why would I waste any more of my time on a woman who doesn't even know how to love herself. What could you possibly have to offer a man like me? "

A surge of blind rage flowed through Emma, and electricity sparked from her sword as it clashed with Hook's, forcing him to take another step back.

"Touch a nerve, did I?" he asked smugly.

Emma glared at him, attacking more purposefully.

"I should have let Gold finish you off when you first came to Storybrooke."

"And I should never have followed you through that damn portal."

"I should never have kissed you."

"I should never have left the Enchanted Forest and followed you to New York. I must have been mad to think an emotionally stunted woman was worth trading my beloved ship for. I should have let you marry the monkey."

"Why _didn't_ you? If I hadn’t drunk that damn potion you gave me, he would never have turned into a monkey in the first place. I could have been happy! That fact that I’m not is _your_ fault. You know your problem, _Captain_? You're so in love with yourself, it's impossible for you to accept that other people don't love you. You don't need my help to find your happy ending. You should marry yourself."

"Why would I marry at all, when I can take what I want, when I want, where I want?"

"And yet, given the opportunity to have any other woman in the tavern, you still chose me."

"Clearly I was drunk!"

"Yeah," she sneered, "that's it, it must have been the rum. Your answer to everything."

"It never hurts. And besides, when did you ever turn down a drink? Don’t think I didn’t notice the fine bottle of rum you had in your apartment in New York, or all the nautical décor. I think someone was still missing a man she couldn’t even remember!"

Nautical décor just happened to be in fashion! And it was true, she didn’t mind a shot of rum, but it had nothing to do with him, the conceited ass!

"Ha!” she snorted derisively, “You're just a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem. Why would I want a man like that?"

Hook's expression darkened, and he started to attack Emma more seriously, catching her off guard and forcing her back.

"What's the matter, pirate, did I strike a nerve?"

"No wonder your son tried to run away from you." he muttered, darkly.

" _What_?!"

"You heard me!"

That did it. A wave of pure hatred washed through her, and she felt her magic ready to explode. She was tempted, so tempted, to let him have it. Blast him backwards and be done with it, but in her current state she didn't know if she could control it. She didn't actually want to kill him, did she?

He stood there, smirking, well aware of the effect he was having on her. Bastard. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself. No, she was a hero, and heroes didn't kill, any more than villains like him got happy endings. She steadied herself, you can do this Emma, don't let him get to you. Find his weakness and use it against him.

Suddenly she knew what she had to do. Those years as a bail bondswoman had taught her exactly how to reel a man in. She pulled off her jacket, letting her blouse fall open. Taking a deep breath, she lunged at him, and they began to duel again, but this time more cautiously, more patiently, as she waited for the right moment, noting the way his eyes flared whenever her shredded blouse revealed the shape of her breasts. She deliberately slowed her movements, puffing a little.

"What's the matter, Swan? Tiring? Beginning to realize this is a fight you can't win?" he jeered, dodging another blow and swiftly returning her attack.

"No. Just remembering what you once said to me about using my superpower to find out if you were lying. Well, I have, and you are. You’re hiding something from me, Killian Jones, and I’m going to find out what it is. And then I’m going to slap you in handcuffs and drag your ass off to jail again.”

The grin slipped from Hook’s face, as images of the Dark One holding his heart, and that magical hat swam in his mind. But what did he care about fairies anyway? Other than Tink. If it hadn’t been for Bae, he might have had a nice little arrangement with Tink in Neverland. Where was she anyway? With the bloody Saviour out of his system, maybe they could resume their acquaintance…

“And this time, I _will_ be pressing charges.”

He just needed to scratch this damn itch, and be done with her…

“And no, you _won’t_ be sharing a cell with my mother.”

Ah, now there was a thought. Handcuffed to the Saviour and her mother. He could work with that…

Seeing his momentary distraction, Emma saw her opportunity, and whirled around, kissing him on the mouth, while she knocked the cutlass out of his hand. He grunted, partly in annoyance, and partly in admiration at her tactics. Her boldness had always sparked the attraction, and he felt his groin respond appreciatively. Dropping his voice to somewhere between a growl and a purr, he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered. “Don't say I didn't warn you what would happen if you played dirty, Swan."

She laughed. "That's your problem, Jones, you're all talk, and no action. And here you are with a sword at your throat."

But no sooner had she said the words when she found her own sword knocked out of her hand, and a hook in her belt loop.

“Two can play at that game, love.” he said, as he yanked her towards him and kissed her hard. He left her no time to catch her breath before he pushed her roughly, and she fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of her.

He was on her in a flash, pinning her hands above her head with his hook, kneeling astride her, his groin pushing into hers, the state of his arousal obvious, and that stupid smirk across his face.

She itched to slap it off, or maybe kiss it off. However much she hated him in this moment, she hated herself more for the fire spreading through her groin as he shifted above her. Hated her traitorous body for wanting this vile excuse of a man. He was hot, there was no denying it, but that was no excuse for the voice in the back of her head that was urging him to take her.

His fingers brushed her face, and she shivered in simultaneous lust and loathing. Hook grinned and leant forward so that his face was hovering above hers. “I warned you before, that when I jab you with my sword, you’ll feel it. You might want to quit.”

“Why would I do that, when I’m…” but this time, there was no escaping. She could feel his laughter as he kissed her, and promised herself when this was over and she’d scratched this itch she would find some way to banish him from Storybrooke and never have to see him again.

“That’s it, Emma,” he encouraged, coming up for air, “You just keep right on hating me. You seem much more responsive to hate than love.” He kissed her again, his hand tangling in her hair, pulling her head off the ground and delving more deeply into her mouth. She groaned. Why did this feel so damn good? Why him? Determined to take control of the situation, she bit down hard, tasting the blood from his lower lip seep into her mouth. He pulled away, cursing, and she managed to free her hands from his hook, shoving him hard in the chest so that he sat upright.

“Damn it, Swan. You _do_ like it rough.” he grimaced, as his fingers explored his bleeding lip.

“What’s the matter, afraid you can’t handle it?” she taunted. Stop, Emma, you’re playing with fire here, she chided herself, but she was too far gone - adrenalin, desire, and loathing flooding through her in an intoxicating mixture.

“Not only can I handle it, but I can give as good as I get.” he growled, his blue eyes dark and hooded with lust and anger. In one swift move, he pulled her up against him, his hook tearing through the back of her blouse, ripping it in two so it fell off her shoulders and down her arms. Emma retaliated by grabbing at his shirt and vest until they both ripped, buttons flying, leaving his chest bare.

“I liked that shirt”, he growled.

“Well, go steal another one. Then I have a good excuse to arrest you.”

“Assaulting the Sheriff in the park isn’t good enough for you?”

“You view this as assault? I thought you _assumed_ I wanted you.”

The predatory grin returned to Hook’s face, as his fingers moved to fondle Emma’s breast, frowning a little as he tried to work out the strange garment that encased them. “Aye, and you do, don’t you? The little princess wants the big bad pirate.” His patience with the contraption around her breasts quickly exhausted, he tore through it with his hook, grinning as Emma equally impatiently shrugged it off. “I’d venture she’s longing to know how it feels to be run through by the pirate’s sword…”

Emma scoffed as she made quick work of removing his jacket, vest, and shirt. “Like I said, all talk and no action.” She grabbed at his charms, yanking his face back to hers and kissing him angrily.

Hook wasted no more time, pushing himself up and pulling Emma’s jeans down her legs, yanking off her boots as she reached for his laces. He swatted her hand away and she looked up at him in surprise. “All in good time, love,” he sneered, “a pirate wants to see the goods before he decides if they’re worth stealing.”

“You bastard.” Emma hissed, furiously.

“ _Pirate._ ” he corrected, trailing his hook down her body, teasing the curve over her nipples, and leaning forward so his face hovered above hers again. “Admit it, Emma, tell me how much you want me.” he whispered.

“I _don’t_.” she snapped.

“Then why are your hands trying to undo my laces again, even after I told you no?” he asked smugly.

He slapped her hands away again, harder this time, and Emma glared up at him, defiantly, refusing to answer. Hook ignored her, tweaking a nipple roughly with his right hand, his hook trailing lower between her legs. Emma gasped as the cold metal brushed her clitoris, only the thin cotton of her panties between them. Hook leered, but said nothing, digging his hook into the ground beside her head, and dipping his fingers between her legs, feeling her wetness and returning to circle her clit with his fingertips. Emma moaned, in spite of herself, and he grinned, leaning forward to kiss her roughly, pulling away just as she began to return the kiss.

“We both know you want me, no matter how much you protest, so why not just admit it?” He pulled his fingers away from her heat and began to lick them, Emma whining at the loss of his touch.

“I _hate_ you.” she mumbled, her voice infused with lust and anger.

“Mmm.” he responded, licking his fingers lazily. “I can taste how much you hate me.”

She hit out at him then, smacking him across the face, and he grunted, a malicious gleam in his eyes, as he pinned the offending hand to the ground with his hook.

“You really do like it rough, don’t you, Emma?” he gloated, his eyes like thunder, but his voice dripping with honey, “I think I’m going to have to torture you a little longer…”

His fingers dipped between her legs again, this time pushing inside her, and Emma gasped. “Yes, you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, running his tongue over the cut in his lip, as he pushed his fingers in and out of her more roughly. She tried to hit him again, with her free hand, but he was ready for her, and ducked, kissing her clumsily, his tongue finding hers as they fought for control of the kiss. He broke away again, leaving her gasping, and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hungrily, then biting down, hard enough to make Emma cry out. She smacked him again ineffectually, as she tried to fight the orgasm that was building, but he ignored her and he took the other nipple into his mouth, repeating the action, adding a third finger, making her cry out again.

“Tell me you want me, Emma.” he breathed, his voice close to her ear, “If you want this to stop, tell me that you want me and I’ll give you what you want.”

No, no no, she thought, but she couldn’t make herself say it. She wanted him, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say it. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, and Hook looked at her in exasperation.

“Fine.” he said, and pulled his fingers out of her. She whimpered at the loss and he smirked. One-handed, his hook still pinning her right wrist to the ground, he began to unlace himself, pushing his pants down around his hips, so that his cock sprang free, straight and proud. He settled back down on her, and began to stroke himself. “I’ll have to take care of this myself.”

“Imagine how good this would feel inside you, Emma. Filling you, stretching you, pleasuring you in ways you can hardly imagine.” he crooned softly, as he stroked himself. “What a shame you’ll never feel that kind of pleasure.”

He let his cock fall forward on her belly as he reached between them again and let his fingers brush her clitoris. Emma moaned, silently urging him to enter her, but he didn’t, teasing her relentlessly but not giving her what she craved. Dear God, she hated him. She was close, so close, she needed to feel him.

Hook was remorseless. “So ready. So needy. But so very stubborn.” he whispered. “Saviour? My arse. Martyr, more like it, sacrificing your own pleasure for the good of the town. That’s what you tell yourself, isn’t it, Swan? Does it keep you warm at night? Knowing the pleasure you’ve denied yourself, because you think that’s the only way you can help others?”

He pulled away again, to resume stroking himself. “All this time, and you’ve learned nothing. You’re still running away from your own happy ending. Still determined to live in that ivory tower, alone.”

“You are _not_ my happy ending!” she gasped, as his hand once again dipped between her legs.

“No, I was your happy beginning. But that was then. Now, I’m just a man who’s going to leave you, like everyone else has left you, because that’s what happens to people who aren’t willing to fight for what they want.”

“I _don’t_ want you.”

“Oh but you do!” he laughed, kissing her harshly, bruising her lips, “If you didn’t want me, you would have told me to stop. But you haven’t, because deep down...” and he dropped his voice to a rumble, and curled his fingers inside her, brushing a place that sent a tremor through her “… deep down, you really do want me.”

A strangled noise escaped Emma’s throat as she tried to fight her arousal.

“Tell me, Emma, have you dreamed of me? Have you thought about having me while you touched yourself? Because I’ve thought about you often, how good it would feel inside you, the pleasure I could take from having you. The pleasure I could give you. The same pleasure you deny yourself when it’s right here for the taking. All you have to do is ask…” his thumb brushed her clitoris, the heat of his touch and the sin in his voice, robbing what was left of her sanity.

“Yes, goddamn it! Yes, I’ve thought of you…”

Hook didn’t let her finish.

“Good girl.” he crooned smugly, and with one swift move, he tore aside her panties and buried himself inside her with a primal groan.

There was nothing gentle in their union.

Emma continued to fight as he claimed her, hating him for what he was doing to her, and hating herself for how very much she wanted it, her nails tearing into his skin, biting down on his lip again as he cursed her, tasting his blood. Hook responded in kind, bruising her with his fingers as he flipped her over, driving into her from behind, pinning her arms down with his so she couldn’t claw at him.

“I hate you!” she moaned as he thrust deeper inside her.

“Yes!” he responded shakily, as he felt his climax building. “Yes, Emma, hate me. Just like that. Oh, yes... damn!” he huffed in pain as she twisted out from under him, and pushed him back, falling hard on his arse, his legs bent awkwardly beneath him.

“Shut. Up!” barked Emma as she climbed into his lap and lowered herself back onto him, sitting astride him with her chest pressed to his.

“Aaargh.” he moaned incoherently, his own desire to have her at his mercy momentarily overwhelmed by the pleasure of watching her take control. Perhaps he’d got it wrong after all, maybe she was worth the effort. This was certainly worth the wait…

No, he told himself sternly, now that he had her, he could finally be free of her. He pushed her off him, and rose unsteadily to his feet, his pants still round his hips, and pulled her up with him. He pushed her, protesting weakly, up against a streetlamp.

“Not done with me yet after all then, _C_...” she taunted, as he lifted her legs around his waist and slammed into her. “… _aptain_ ” she groaned as he filled her.

“Not until I’ve heard you screaming my name in pleasure.” he bit out, between thrusts, leaning his left arm against the lamppost to brace himself.

“Fuck you!”

“As you wish.” he leered, picking up the pace.

Emma felt her head swim. She was not going to give him the satisfaction, she was not, but she was so close, so very close… a strangled sound escaped her as he slipped out of her and lowered his mouth to her right breast and began to suck. Not hard and painfully like the last time, but softly, his tongue flicking over her nipple, drawing circles, round and round. His fingers slipping back down to her aching core. Her hand twisted in his hair, as she mentally cursed him. Not soft, not gentle, not now, damn him! He looked up at her, grinning, fully aware of the effect he was having on her, the bastard. How could someone she hated so much be so goddamn beautiful? How could such a heartless villain give her so much pleasure?

“Hey, Hook,” she spat out, “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

She felt his chuckle humming against her skin. “Oh, I am, Princess. What’s the matter, not rough enough for you? Need the dirty pirate to take you hard and fast so you can run away and pretend it never happened?”

The little shit. She yanked his head up and glared at him.

“I. Am. Not. A. Princess.”

“Oh yes, you are, love. So. Very. Demanding.” he punctuated each word with a flick of his thumb against her nipple, taking delight in how her breath caught as he did so. “And I am most certainly a pirate, who’ll take what he wants, _when_ he wants it.”

Emma glared at him with loathing, and he stared back at her, challenging her to make a move.

The light flared and sparked above them as Emma tried to restrain her anger, and then suddenly they were on the ground again, clawing and clutching frantically at each other as they rolled over and over, until Hook finally got the upper hand, pressing her back into the ground, pinning her arms against her sides as he took her.

Emma struggled beneath him, desperate to regain control, but all that happened was that he hooked his arms under her knees, forcing her legs up around his shoulders, deepening the angle of penetration.

Emma gave up all semblance of control as he thrust into her, harder and faster, crossing her ankles over his back, and digging her nails into his ass, urging him on. He grunted in satisfaction, and she could feel herself slipping, frantically clawing at his back to try and stop herself from falling over the edge. Sensing how close she was, Hook forced himself to slow down.

“Come on, Emma” he encouraged, his hand finding her swollen clitoris again, sending a wave of pleasure through her. She was so close…

“Don’t stop!” she begged helplessly, as he stilled inside her, “Hook, please?”

“That’s not my name, Emma.” his voice like gravel, sending flames of heat through her.

“I hate you, Killian Jones!” she ground out, and he grinned.

“Say it again.” he demanded, slowly beginning to pull out.

“ _Killian_!” Emma pleaded. “Don’t stop, please…”

Excruciating slowly he began to move again, while Emma begged “Killian, please…”

Feeling his own control slipping away, Hook began to rock into her faster, Emma crying out his name over and over as he filled her, seeing stars as her orgasm hit her in wave after wave. Hook came with a strangled cry of “Emma!” and collapsed on top of her, her walls still fluttering around him.

*****

She wasn’t sure how long they’d lain there, mere moments or minutes, before Emma became aware of the snow falling around them, settling in his hair and across his back, feeling the taste of it on her lips. “Killian?” she murmured, and felt him stir above her, raising his head to look down at her, as though waking from a dream.

“Emma?” he recoiled in horror, rolling off her onto the cold ground, his fingers brushing his lip where she bit him. “What did we do?” his eyes wild and horrified.

“Everything, I think.” she grimaced, as she tried to lift herself up on her elbows to survey the cuts and bruises they'd inflicted on each other. “Christ, it’s cold!” Hook scrambled to find their jackets and pulled hers around her while he searched for her pants. His legs didn’t seem to be working properly, and he wasn’t sure if that was because his pants were still half-mast or his brain was broken. He thought he’d just had Emma in the local park. They didn’t seem to have a functioning shirt between them, so he wrapped himself around her, trying to warm them both up. She slipped her hands beneath his jacket and pulled him close.

“That actually happened, didn’t?” she asked quietly.

“Judging by all the sore places where you've made me hurt, I’d have to say yes.” He closed his eyes in shame. What had he done? “I’m sorry, Emma, truly I am. I never meant for that to happen, not like that, not…”

“We were cursed.” she interrupted. “That wasn’t you.”

But it was, he knew it was, and he might never get the chance to put this right. Not with the bloody Crocodile about to take his life. He ached to tell her, but even thinking about it caused a stab of pain.

“What is it, Killian?” she asked, concerned. “Are you hurt?”

“No, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it, love.”

“I know you’re lying to me. I know there’s something you haven’t told me. What is it?” she demanded, breaking away their embrace, her hands still resting on his chest.

“I can’t.” Again, the stab of pain, and he grimaced.

“Killian?” she looked frightened now, and it struck him that at no time in the last hour or so, despite the terrible things they’d said to each other, had she looked at him in fear. She was a bloody marvel, to see him at his worst and not run. He didn’t deserve her.

“Emma, you need to get away from me. Now.” He told her.

“No way.” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “No way do you get to accuse me of running away from things, and then get to run yourself after doing _that_!”

“Emma, you don’t understand! He…” Hook cried out in pain, his voice dropping to a whisper as he continued “could make me hurt you.”

Emma reached out and caught him as he dropped to his knees, eyes watering in pain.

“Who? What’s wrong with you? What are you talking about?” she asked desperately, but Hook couldn’t respond, his mouth opening, and closing, but no words coming out. She dropped to her knees in front of him, and he slumped forward into her arms, still breathing but white as a sheet. “Killian? Killian?” She shook him frantically, and he smiled weakly up at her. “Still here, love. Give me a moment.” he gasped. He took her right hand, and held it against his chest, saying nothing but willing her to understand.

Emma could feel her heart thumping in her chest. This couldn’t be happening. The memory of Graham’s death was still raw, this couldn’t be happening again… her eyes flicked from Killian’s to the shoelace tied round her wrist. He knew what that was, even though she’d never told him directly, he knew she’d been close to The Huntsman and knew the rumours about his fate at the hands of the Evil Queen. She looked back at him, and he nodded, bring his fingers up to her lips to silence the question that was forming there. Her eyes widened in horror as she realised she couldn’t feel his heart beating. Regina? But when? Why? Keeping his fingers very firmly on her lips, Killian locked eyes with her, and then slowly and deliberately looked down at his charms. The gold charms that hung around his neck.

Then Emma understood. She looked down at his hook and back up at him questioningly. He shook his head, no. Then why? she asked silently. I was trying to save… “you”, he whispered. “You wouldn’t have just lost your magic that night.”

*****

Fortunately, Rumplestiltskin was too busy cursing the Snow Queen’s premature demise to notice the pirate’s heart throbbing brightly in his satchel, or all the lights in town flickering, as Killian Jones passed out in his lover’s arms.

He didn't notice the power pole as it fell and knocked him out, while Belle screamed, unable to push him out of the way in time. But as she tried to bring him round, Belle noticed the glow from his satchel, and when she opened it, she knew exactly what it was. When she looked down at her husband, no spell of Shattered Sight could have made her feel any angrier towards him than she did right there and then. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I have no idea where this came from (okay, there's a bit of Buffy & Spike in there, and a touch of Jeff & Britta) but my mind went there, and my fingers followed.


End file.
